May Review: The Great Race (1965)

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“Push the button, Max!”
– Professor Fate, usually before a catastrophe of his doing strikes

To say things have gotten tumultuous since the last review would be a gross understatement. But we’re not here to discuss today’s upheavals, important as they are. Let’s just take a moment to reflect and laugh. Lord knows we could use a good one right now.

Directed by esteemed comedy director and Hollywood bad boy Blake Edwards, The Great Race is a loving pastiche and send-up of silent comedies and melodramas from the early days of cinema (classic Laurel and Hardy in particular; the film even opens with a dedication to them). Thankfully the movie itself is not silent. What kind of genius madman would try to make a silent comedy in the late twentieth century?

Believe it or not, The Great Race was inspired by a real automobile race from New York to Paris that took place in 1908. Some of the more outlandish elements of the race like floating on icebergs across the sea were even based on genuine ideas that were proposed for the race but wisely ruled out. Despite its star power and a huge budget, The Great Race was a flop on release and quickly fell into obscurity. Critics assumed it was trying to ride off the popularity of Those Magnificent Men And Their Flying Machines, another big-budget all-star comedy with a similar premise. I’m more inclined to believe that its failure was due to the roadshow phenomenon that boomed in the late ’50s dying out at this point. It would be several more years until the epic format of a three-hour film with an overture and intermission faded from theaters completely, but audiences were already losing interest, and that rung The Great Race’s knell. Regardless, it’s garnered something of a cult fanbase from automobile aficionados (the original cars are still displayed at conventions), fans of classic cinematic comedies, and it even inspired the wildly popular Hanna-Barbera cartoon Wacky Races.

So if it wasn’t for this –

– we wouldn’t have this.

The opening credits cleverly play into the time period the story is set in by having them be slides screened on a magic lantern, with more than a few “technical difficulties” and reactions from rowdy audience members. The slides are beautifully and colorfully illustrated. Among the notable names in the cast and crew is noted composer Henry Mancini, who created the score for this movie in addition to the main love theme, “The Sweetheart Tree”. It’s no “Moon River”, but then again few songs are.

Our film begins proper as we’re introduced to our protagonist, the genius billionaire philanthropist playboy daredevil known as The Great Leslie (Tony Curtis).

I didn’t add that sparkle in by the way.

Tony Curtis, dashing and debonair as always, was born to play Leslie. His delivery is a bit stiff at times compared to his previous films, but I chalk that up to him perfectly capturing the wooden acting that accompanied dry heroic roles from the Gay Nineties. Heck, he never even says the word “automobile” like a regular person. He always, and I mean always pronounces it AU-TO-MO-BILE, in all caps, big, bold and robotic. Give the guy points for commitment to the acting style. I’m also happy to say that Curtis didn’t limit himself to playing the white knight onscreen. Part of the reason why The Great Race went overbudget was that he found out his two main co-stars would be paid significantly less than him, and he threatened to quit the movie if their salaries weren’t increased.

Leslie’s latest public display of bravado is escaping a straitjacket while dangling from a rising hot-air balloon. As he takes to the skies, little does he realize that someone on the ground has sinister plans for him.

Meet Professor Fate, played to deliciously hammy perfection by the great Jack Lemmon. It may be difficult to tell from his portrait, but he’s the bad guy (shocking, I know). Take a little Snidely Whiplash, some Wile E. Coyote, and more than a bit of Chuck Jones’ “greedy little coward” version of Daffy Duck, and you get Fate. For some, he’s the real hero of the picture. Fate is nasty while Leslie is courteous, self-serving while he’s generous, the black to his white, just his opposite in every determinable way – and he is so much fun to watch. He can go from growling and muttering curses to screaming his lungs out in record time. Fate is the cigar-smoking, mustache-twirling over-the-top menace this story needs to make it truly entertaining, and Lemmon does not disappoint. In fact, he went on record stating this was the role most beloved by his fans. Not Felix Ungar, not his iconic cross-dresser Josephine from Some Like It Hot, not his many Oscar-nominated/winning turns in Mister Roberts, The China Syndrome, The Apartment, and countless others. No, this top-hatted do-badder has won the hearts of thousands, and it’s easy to see why. He is an absolute hoot.

But what good is a villain without a henchman to back him up? Fate has one in the form of his manservant Max (a pre-Columbo/Princess Bride Peter Falk). Max is loyal to a fault, and that fault is his competence is in direct proportion to his loyalty. If Fate’s not causing his own comeuppance, then Max is, all while naively standing by and shouting “HEY PROFESSUH!!” in that thick Brooklyn accent of his. If Fate is Oliver Hardy, then Max is very much Stan Laurel. And like the real Stan Laurel, he’s surprisingly capable on his own, but we’ll get to that.

Fate launches an arrow into the balloon and pops it, fretting Leslie’s audience. Always one step ahead, however, Leslie frees himself, straps into a parachute and lands unharmed while the remains of the balloon collapse on Max and Fate. Fate then tries his version of Leslie’s stunt with considerably less success. The movie continues like this for a few more scenes, with Fate and Max trying to coast off of Leslie’s popularity or sabotaging his exploits only for it to blow up in their faces. You could argue that all you needed was the one scene to get the point across, but there are three important things you get from these eight minutes of rivalry:

1. It establishes everything you need to know about Fate, Leslie, and their relationship to each other.
2. These scenes are FUNNY, which leads into…
3. The revelation that the biggest inspiration The Great Race draws from aside from pre-talkies: the Looney Tunes. Appropriate, considering this picture is from Warner Brothers. The cartoony slapstick, stunts, adventures and even some of the banter wouldn’t feel out of place in a classic short from Termite Terrace. It even borrows some of the same wacky sound effects. And of course, it goes without saying that Leslie’s cool cavalier attitude paired up against Fate’s brash narcissistic demeanor will seem more than a bit familiar to fans.

Bored with run-of-the-mill acts of daring-do, Leslie approaches the Webber motorcar company with a proposition: an AU-TO-MO-BILE race, but not an ordinary AU-TO-MO-BILE race; one that will take those bold and hearty enough through all matter of terrain from New York to Paris. Fate, disguised as a board member impersonating Ludwig Von Drake, tries to shoot him down, but accidentally outs himself. He declares that he will be victorious this time before making a dramatic exit out the window.

Webber designs a custom car for Leslie to race in, which they christen the Leslie Special. Leslie picks it up for a test drive with his right-hand man Hezekiah. Hezekiah is portrayed by Keenan Wynn, who you might recognize as the voice of the Winter Warlock from Santa Claus is Coming to Town. And now that you do, you’ll never be able to un-hear it. Fate and Max surreptitiously follow them on a homemade dirigible.

The entire time Max is praying Fate won’t say anything about lightening the load.

Fate tries to bomb the new car but his homemade explosive gets stuck on the pedals and goes kaboom. Thankfully, because this movie runs on Looney Tunes logic, no one actually gets killed by bombs; they just get mildly singed and covered in ash. Fate resorts to stealing parts to build his own car in his makeshift laboratory/garage. Max aids him by breaking into the Rolls-Royce factory to snatch a spare magneto.

“McKellen or Fassbender?”

Fate installs the final part and reveals his greatest creation: The Hannibal Twin-Eight, a Frankenstein’s monster of some of the greatest cars of the era, plus some nefarious modifications to give him an edge in the race. These include a heater in front to melt icy paths, a jack that lifts the entire carriage out of harm’s reach, and a cannon to blast enemies out of their way.

So Fate just created his own real-life Mario Kart. If he wasn’t so obsessed with defeating Leslie, he’d be a millionaire.

Each demonstration of the Hannibal’s capabilities is punctuated with the cry of “Push the button, Max!” Expect Fate’s hubris to catch up with him whenever he says it; that sentence is to this movie what “Piece of cake” is to Labyrinth. It’s no coincidence Dr. Forrester would later borrow this catchphrase way down in Deep 13.

In the midst of Fate and Leslie’s escalating rivalry is some trouble brewing at The Daily Sentinel. Vivacious suffragette and feminist Maggie DuBois (Natalie Wood) has handcuffed herself to the door of the men’s room in a gambit to become the paper’s first female reporter.

I’ve heard of trying to get your foot in the door but cuffing yourself to it? I should try that more often.

There’s a small debate regarding this film and whether or not Maggie counts as a straw feminist. Personally, I think she’s fine. The straw feminist’s image (and certain sections of the internet’s view of feminism in general) is that of an eternally glowering harridan with a deep loathing of men and most fun things in general, burdened with the unshakeable belief that all women must claw their way to the top of the hierarchy. Maggie isn’t out to paint all men as monsters, she’s trying to make the world a more equal place for men and women alike. She views her mission as a proud, joyous calling, much like Mrs. Banks in Mary Poppins. Her means are occasionally questionable, but this is a comedy. Things have to be exaggerated to a certain degree to milk laughs. Maggie stooping to any level to get ahead, even acting hypocritically at times, is what makes her as humorous as the guys. As a bonus, we get to see a rare comedic side to Natalie Wood. While Maggie is unafraid to call someone out on their double standards or put up her dukes if they threaten her, she still acts respectful and level-headed to even her harshest critics. “You’re a fine man. A timid man, but a worthwhile one,” she tells the flustered editor, Mr. Goodbody, after she charms him into letting her cover The Great Race by exposing her shapely leg. She never loses her spirit or moral compass, and if I may be a bit shallow, her wardrobe, designed by the acclaimed Edith Head, is simply gorgeous. She has a different ensemble on for every scene she’s in. Either her luggage is a TARDIS or it must weigh a metric ton.

As Maggie promised Goodbody that she would report the race from start to finish, that means finding a racer to tag along with. Her first stop is Leslie’s training grounds (Fate and Max try to spy on them from their submarine – yes, he made his own submarine too. I love this movie, in case you haven’t guessed.) Sparks fly between the two the moment they meet and they retire to his private tent for champagne. It’s when their discussion turns to women’s roles that they start to butt heads. Maggie makes it clear where she stands but Leslie sees no reason to change his misogynist views, no matter how qualified Maggie is. Eager to prove herself, Maggie goads Leslie in an impromptu fencing match, then tries handcuffing herself to him when she’s bested. But Leslie also knows how to use his attractiveness to his advantage and distracts her with a kiss. Undeterred, Maggie jumps the gate to Professor Fate’s mansion to convince him to take her on instead, but that doesn’t go well either.

But the resulting Benny Hill sketch still isn’t enough to put Maggie off. On the day of the Great Race, she drives up to the starting line herself, having finally been admitted as a competitor under The Sentinel after her fellow suffragette Hester (who also happens to be Goodbody’s wife) bent his ear.

Ethel? Where’s Lucy?

The race is soon underway, and trouble strikes from the moment the starting gun goes off. Max sabotaged the competition on Fate’s orders and the other racers (excluding Leslie and Maggie) lose control and crash everywhere like an old-timey re-enactment of The Blues Brothers. Fate is thrilled…until he realizes Max unwittingly messed with their own vehicle as well.

I’m just going to leave this picture here with no context. Enjoy.

Eventually, our remaining racers have made it out West. Maggie’s car gives out in the desert, and she plays the damsel in order to get Leslie’s attention. Leslie congratulates her on how far she managed to get on her own, though she believes his compliment is targeted at the fact that she’s the only woman in the race (whether or not it is is up for interpretation). Maggie insists she’ll finish even if she’s no longer an entrant, and Leslie gives her a lift over Hezekiah’s protests.

Fate, meanwhile, is in the lead. On the outskirts of the first pit stop, a little town called Boracho (Spanish for “drunk ass”), he and Max are attacked by a band of “Indians”, all whooping and hollering and facepaint and feathers (oy gevalt). Fate activates the jack and a smokescreen and leaves his pursuers in the dust. When he arrives at Boracho, the mayor assures them that their aggressors were just a welcoming committee dressed up to surprise them. Yes, have your greeters pose as violent stereotypes, that won’t cause any confusion or terror with visitors. It’s an idea that only an inebriated idiot could have come up with. Boracho certainly lives up to its name.

Fate just wants to pick up some gas and be on his way to stay in first, so he balks at the mayor’s insistence that he be their guest of honor and get showered with accolades all night long. He knocks him out with the key to the city and speeds off. When Leslie, Maggie, and Hezekiah drive up to Boracho, the mayor threatens to lynch them unless they endure the welcome reception. This includes a musical number from the saloon’s chanteuse, Miss Lily Olay (Dorothy Provine).

“I’m tired, sick and tired of love, from below and above…”

Lily sings “He Shouldn’t-a Hadn’t-a Oughtn’t-a Swung On Me”, a rollicking ode to standing up to domestic abuse (though it makes Lily’s treatment at the hands of her own lover difficult to watch). She showers Leslie with plenty of affection, which doesn’t go unnoticed by a jealous Maggie or Fate, who’s returned in disguise to steal the gas. When Fate overhears someone say that Lily’s beau would go off the rails if he saw his girl with another man, he sees this as the perfect opportunity for some chaos. Fate tracks down said man, a diminutive but violent rustler named Texas Jack, who turns the festivities into an all-out brawl. Nobody’s safe, not even the women (though Lily does get back at Jack for pushing her around one too many times). It’s a boisterous barroom blitz that goes on for nearly ten minutes and literally brings the house down.

Another Channel Awesome anniversary gone horribly right.

Fate and Max make off with as much gasoline they can carry during the commotion and blow up the rest. They escape into the desert, stopping only when they realize Maggie has stowed away with them. This is where Leslie finds her hitching for a ride as he continues the race in a horse-drawn carriage.

“Don’t you want to know how I wound up here, Leslie?” “Frankly Miss DuBois, I don’t give a hoot!”

Maggie promises Leslie she can send for more gasoline via carrier pigeon and have it ready for pickup by the time they reach the next town. In return, Leslie will take her as far as that and then she’s on her own. When they arrive, however, Leslie learns that Maggie ordered the gas in her name, and she refuses to sign for it unless he lets her stay in the race with him. Hezekiah’s had it up to here with Maggie’s interference and offers an ultimatum: either she goes, or he does. Maggie assures Leslie she can change his friend’s mind. But when the train bound for New York leaves, Maggie’s still there and Hezekiah isn’t. Resigned, Maggie tells him that Hezekiah insisted that the race was no place for a woman before he got on the train. That was true, of course – but his departure wasn’t exactly willing.

Sometime later, Leslie, Maggie, Fate, and Max are held up by a blizzard in the Bering Strait. The storm is so fierce that they don’t even know they’re parked right next to each other. We get more sexual tension between Maggie and Leslie as the two must share the same blanket and pop some bubbly to keep themselves from freezing. Circumstances also force Fate and Max into shacking up with Leslie for the night.

Exit pursued by a (polar) bear!

Maggie convinces Leslie to put aside his quarrels with Fate and they all spend the evening downing Leslie’s infinite supply of champagne.

Fun Fact: drinking alcohol in the cold actually lowers your body temperature despite the warm feeling in your chest so relying on taking shots in freezing weather will actually kill you.

“I thought the fun facts were supposed to be fun.”

“Okay, how’s this: Aunt Jemima’s been officially canceled because of her incredibly racist roots.”

“Better.”

Fate wakes up the next morning in a particularly foul mood. Everyone attributes it to a hangover, but he insists that he’s feeling seasick (there’s a difference). He proves it when he storms outside and walks right off the edge into the water; their patch of ice has broken off the mainland and drifted out to sea!

Still adrift after the intermission, the racers make the best of their situation: Max and Maggie catch fish and cook them on the Hannibal’s heated fender, Leslie sends messages in bottles in hopes that they and their AU-TO-MO-BILES will be found before they sink, and Professor Fate finds things to complain about (when the forces of nature aren’t conspiring to toss him overboard for our amusement, that is). Being cooped up with everyone gives Fate plenty of time to study Leslie and Maggie. He plots with Max to use their on-again-off-again flirting to his advantage.

The racers reach a Siberian port just as their floe begins sinking. But dry land isn’t the only thing waiting for them: Hezekiah is too. Leslie and Maggie get into another tiff over her deception, and Fate chooses this time to sweep in and kidnap Maggie under cover of smokescreen. And…I don’t know, maybe I’m missing something, but did Fate skip a step in his plan because I don’t quite understand it. My best guess is by keeping Maggie in the race she can distract Leslie long enough with their fighting and pave the way for Fate to win, but I don’t see how that would happen if he’s the one stuck with her instead. And wouldn’t Fate kidnapping Leslie’s would-be girlfriend motivate him to catch up quickly and rescue her? I know it seems like Leslie was going to abandon Maggie at the port, but she would have found a way to stick with somebody, whether through bartering or more trickery. And it’s not as if she’s in any real danger with Fate either. At the first opportunity, she takes advantage of him and shamelessly kisses Fate in front of Leslie to make him jealous, proving to him and Hezekiah that she’s just fine. So unless Fate’s trying to make his evil quota for the day or is under some Ruddigore curse, he just made things needlessly convoluted for himself.

I’m getting a headache, let’s check in on The Sentinel. Throughout the first half of the feature, we periodically see Hester and the suffragettes marching on the press, demanding jobs, defying police brutality, and following in Maggie’s example by chaining themselves to the doors. Each act brings her closer and closer to her husband’s office. The protests bring out the worst in Goodbody as he resorts to more drastic measures to quell his wife, including putting her in jail for a while. He also acts especially nasty towards his beleaguered assistant Frisbee (the guy lets him fall out of a several-story window without batting an eyelid; not even J. Jonah Jameson was that heartless). So it’s quite heartening when we catch up with The Sentinel in the second act and see that it’s under new management.

Ethel broke through the glass ceiling. Good for her.

Through Hester, we learn that both cars were last seen in the fictional European country of Pottsdorf. Not only is the little hamlet honored to be a part of the race, but the heir to the throne, Prince Hapnick, is due to be crowned the next day. Leslie and Hezekiah are invited to the pre-coronation ball. Both are startled to see the prince has a very familiar face…

Prince Hapnick is also played by Jack Lemmon, and despite the uncanny resemblance he couldn’t be more different from Fate: jovial, childlike, enthusiastic, and in a constant state of inebriation. He’s immediately won over by Leslie and takes him into his confidence. Leslie is introduced to Hapnick’s advisors, General Kuhster and Baron Von Stuppe (pronounced “shtoop”, and if you know what it means, well, insert Yakko saying “Goodnight everybody” here).

Wait…a blonde Western showgirl named Lily…a character named Von Stuppe…

If Mel Brooks didn’t see The Great Race once before making Blazing Saddles, then he’s certainly done his homework.

Leslie notices Khuster and Von Stuppe whispering to each other before the prince is put to bed and grows suspicious. Hezekiah later spies them sneaking out of the palace with the prince in tow and follows them to a castle hidden in the woods. There, he finds Fate, Maggie and Max being held prisoner. Stuppe has noticed Fate’s incredible resemblance to Hapnick and captured him so he can impersonate the prince and give him and Kuhster control of the kingdom.

Now a military coup is a terrible thing, but seeing how this is a small European kingdom that’ll probably get eaten alive in the turmoil of World War One…well, I’d hate to say it but the chances of survival would be marginally better with the experienced general than Prince Dudley Moore. The last thing the world needs is another irresponsible egotistic manchild at the helm.

This extended Prisoner of Zenda homage takes up a good portion of the film’s second half. It doesn’t have much to do with the race itself, but it raises the stakes and manages to keep things interesting. If it were another forty minutes of Fate, Leslie and Maggie zooming around trying to outwit each other like they have for the past hour and a half, it’d get old fast. Now there’s more action, intrigue, suspense, and the humor derives from the royal mix-up as well as the characters bouncing off each other (Fate’s understated reaction to one of Hapnick’s persistent pug dogs always has me in stitches).

Hezekiah is captured trying to rescue everyone, but Max escapes and hurries to find the one man who can save them – Leslie. The thing is, Fate has Leslie arrested and thrown in the dungeon to ensure he loses the race. So Max pulls some fantastic ninja moves to infiltrate the palace, knock out the guards, break Leslie out, and commandeers both the Leslie Special AND the Hannibal himself to distract the cavalry! You’d never expect this bungling lackey to be capable of this much badassery, though I think Fate not being there to order Max around and potentially screw things up has a lot to do with it.

Leslie engages Von Stuppe in a duel to the death. The scene takes an unexpectedly serious turn right after we’ve had so many hijinks; the music is minimal and ominous, the sword fighting is tense, there’s little repartee to lighten the mood, and there are even a few callbacks to some of Errol Flynn’s swashbucklers in some of the more dramatic shots.

Also, Tony Curtis does this entire scene shirtless for completely justified artistic and narrative reasons.

My favorite part of this duel, though? How it ends. All that solemnity, all that suspense ratcheted up for a single simple punchline, which I won’t dare spoil. It has me on the floor every time.

Everyone races to the cathedral to stop the coronation. Oh, and Maggie has been reduced to wearing only a corset for reasons which are also completely artistically and narratively justified (I’m serious, she tried making a rope ladder out of her dress and got caught). Max informs the professor that the jig is up and he makes a quick exit in the middle of the ceremony. Kuhster chases him into a bakery and then…we get it. The scene that I’m convinced this movie was made around. The scene that cemented this as one of the greatest comedies of the twentieth century. To call it just a random pie fight is an insult. It’s not just a pie fight, and neither is it THE pie fight. No, this scene has well and truly earned the right to be called The GREAT Pie Fight. It starts with a slow buildup as Fate vents his frustrations at Kuhster via a custard cream aimed right at his kisser, then one by one Kuhster, the chefs, Hapnick and more retaliate until the whole kitchen erupts into total pie pandemonium, underscored by a lively polka that helps sell the hilarity. Not a moment goes by without something silly happening, from Leslie somehow managing to stay spotless as he wanders around to Max getting absolutely creamed on arrival. And did I mention that every single one of the 4000 pies thrown about is real? This whole moment is another nod to Laurel and Hardy, specifically their silent short The Battle of the Century, which boasted the title of the biggest, longest pie fight ever captured on film – until this one came along.

Leslie, Maggie, and Hezekiah make a pit stop in the countryside to wash up and Maggie indulges in a little sing-along of “The Sweetheart Tree” (complete with bouncing ball). By this point, Leslie has realized that he’s fallen in love with Maggie. In private, he tells her that he finally concedes to her viewpoint about men and women being equal. He then kisses her, which gives Maggie the wrong impression and she slaps him. The two bicker their way to Paris even as Professor Fate threatens to outstrip them. What I think I love most about this part has to be Hezekiah sitting quietly in the back not getting involved whatsoever. Maybe he doesn’t want to get roped into their drama, maybe he’s mellowed towards Maggie after she saved him from being tortured by Von Stuppe, but nothing will stop him from doing nothing at all.

“No sir. Ain’t gettin’ out of this seat.”

After many right and wrong turns, the cars are nearly at the end. Leslie’s forced to confess that he truly did change his mind all for the love of Maggie. When she doesn’t believe him, he does the only thing he can think of at the moment to prove it:

He stops the car right before the finish line.

Fate crosses first.

He’s finally won.

Leslie threw away his shot for love.

He lost – but only the race.

Fate is elated with his new status as a winner – until he discovers Leslie “cheated” in letting him win. And that is when he snaps. Fate doesn’t want a victory handed to him like a cheap participation trophy. He wants to steal it from Leslie’s grasp, and watch as he grovels and writhes before him in defeat. There is nothing in the world that he desires more than to see Leslie suffer the same humiliation he’s had to endure time after time. To put every ounce of himself into lying, cheating and scheming his way to the top but still not win on his own terms is no triumph at all. It is the straw that broke the camel’s back. Fate leaps on top of Leslie’s car and lets him have it: every bit of jealousy and fury is unleashed in an uninhibited tirade against Leslie. He rants and wails until he has no choice but to challenge Leslie to another race back home. And Leslie, well, he responds to Fate’s mental breakdown by calmly asking him to get off of his car.

Shortly thereafter, The Great Race Part Deux is set to go. It’s also doubling as Leslie and Maggie’s honeymoon as the two have gotten married in the interim. Even Fate and Max are begrudgingly happy for the newlyweds, though what little goodwill they have doesn’t last. Once the couple crosses the starting line, Fate stays behind to fire the cannon at them, but he says that ill-fated phrase and destroys the Eiffel Tower instead.

“And that sound you hear is the terrorists complaining that Americans are taking their jobs.”

The Great Race does not deserve its reputation as an overlooked classic – it deserves to be remembered as a classic first and foremost. While the scenes with the battle of the sexes are hit or miss, the simple rivalry between Leslie and Fate is given such an enormous scale that the result is one of the most epic comedies ever made. It’s a shame that Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis worked together only in this and Some Like It Hot because they play off each other splendidly. The rest of the cast is great as well, and Henry Mancini’s score is sumptuous and upbeat (“Night Night Sweet Prince” is a personal favorite). The pacing is drawn out compared to today’s cinema, but the film uses that to its advantage, filling each minute with hilarity. If you’ve got two and a half hours to kill and are looking for some levity, then take the time to watch this. The Great Race gets my highest recommendation.

“Push the button, Cynicism!”

“No.”

---

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this review, please consider supporting me on Patreon. Patreon supporters receive great perks such as extra votes for movie reviews, requests, early sneak-peeks, and more. Special thanks to Amelia Jones, Gordhan Rajani and Sam Minden for their contributions, especially at this time. Even though this review is posted on the day of the blog’s fifth anniversary, I’ll be focusing on getting the ACTUAL fifth-anniversary review done next (still keeping it under wraps!) and you can expect the Faerie Tale Theatre reviews soon after. Thank you all for your patience and for sticking around and supporting this blog for as long as you have. I wouldn’t be here without you.

PS – I thought Scoob was pretty decent.